


New Year's Eve Shenanigans

by Azure_Lynx



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: And not in the main plot, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Drama, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, High School AU, Mostly as backstory and such, New Year's Eve, One that doesn't agree with Cassandra, Party, Pre-Relationship, References to Drugs, mentions of child abuse, pizza!, sex mention but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9124849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azure_Lynx/pseuds/Azure_Lynx
Summary: Cassandra Cillian is at the wrong kind of high school party, the kind she'd never be at if her sort-of friend Jazz hadn't wanted to invite Jake. Nothing is right, not her crowd, not her outfit, not her environment. Just when she thinks she's going crazy, Ezekiel Jones, notorious thief and slacker, offers her an escape if only she'll take his hand.





	1. Chapter 1

Cassandra was not completely sure why she was at this party. It was in somebody’s basement, one of the underground ones that only had tiny windows at the top to let in some natural light, but it was dark now and she was having trouble seeing out the window. 

There was loud, unpleasant music akin to construction on Cassandra’s skull, accompanied by obnoxious flashing red lights. She wasn’t sure if the lights were real or if she was just hallucinating again, but it didn’t really matter. The effect was the same. 

She leaned heavily into the corner she was in and closed her eyes, rubbing the heels of her palms against them roughly to try to clear her head. Why had she agreed to come to this party? 

Jake had left her immediately, off to flirt with the host, who had invited Cassandra specifically so they would have a reasonable excuse to invite Jake - you know, close friend of a friend thing. Social politics made no sense to Cassandra. 

That left her, all alone, in the corner of a crowded party with painted strangers she only half knew. Everyone was made of glitter and neon lights and Cassandra felt her head swimming. 

_“Go to the party,”_ her parents had said. _“Be a normal high school senior. It’s New Year’s Eve. Spend it with your friends.”_

She was quite sure if her parents had known there’d be whatever that bitter-likely-alcoholic drink was, they would have wanted her to stay home. There was nothing normal about a nerd girl with numerous health problems, hallucinating in the middle of a high school extravaganza, straight out of an after-school special warning about the dangers of teen drinking - Cassandra sniffed and got an earful of chill transcendental notes - and smoking pot. 

She caught a glimpse of Jake disappearing into a closet with the host. Add teen sex to that list as well. She grumbled angrily, picking at a loose thread in her fingerless knit gloves, and slid down to sit on the floor. The corner was probably clean enough. She hoped. She tucked her legs under herself and pulled her sapphire skirt lower. 

Her mother was never allowed to dress her again, she made a mental note. Off the shoulder straps greatly prohibited one’s movements, and a white top this expensive did not belong on Cassandra’s accident prone body. She’d had to fight tooth and nail for the gloves and the scarf in her hair, the only semblance of “Cassandra Cillian, eclectic queen” on her body.

And the tattoo. But she’d be damned if her mom ever found that. It had been a dumb idea, but she had to take her body back somehow, assert control, remaster the thing that had been causing her so much trouble recently. Just two small lines, Maxwell’s equations, for her love of math and science. They were on her right, just above the waist of a pair of jeans, and easily covered by bright floral bathing suits Cassandra loved. Her mom would never know.

She closed her eyes again and tried to let her mind wander, focus on the tattoo and math and the universe, relaxing back into the wall. It was hard to block out all the stimuli around her, her scratchy glittery shoes scraping her skin, the abhorrent music and the lights, the smell of strange concoctions. Sensory overload washed over her and she was caught in the undertow, drowning and barely able to breathe, sucked further and further into the darkness under the waves of her surroundings. She felt wet and she couldn’t tell if it was real or a hallucination, if someone had spilled something on her or if she was drowning for real. 

“Hey! Fuck off!” A voice broke through Cassandra’s spiral, sharp and heavily accented. “Leave her alone; you’re not helping.” 

She refused to open her eyes, but she felt the boy drawing closer. It sounded like Ezekiel Jones, a junior from her school. He was a little one, started school early. She was in the same boat, though - skipped a grade, now the youngest of everyone else. 

Boat - ocean - drowning - drowning - she was sucked back under until she felt a pair of strong, gentle hands cover her ears. They pressed in with just the right amount of force, sealing her off from the outside world. 

Her own hands were digging into her thighs, painted purples and blues stark against her pale flesh. She lifted them and placed her palms against his hands. He went to pull back but she pressed down, keeping him there, and focused intently on the feeling of his skin and the count of her breathing. In for four, out for four. 

Everything grew easier over the course of a few minutes. Breathing, living, everything. She opened her eyes slowly and studied Ezekiel’s face, filling her field of view almost completely. The hallucinations were pretty much gone but for the subtle sound of ocean waves in the background and the smell of her grandfather’s cologne. That was for love.

“Thank you,” she said serenely, once more the picture of composure. Maybe she was still a little out of it. He was very handsome. And she smelled a lot of booze.

She moved her hand to her ponytail. He withdrew his hands from her ears and placed them on his lap, where his legs were folded under himself, mirroring her. 

“Um. Why is my hair sticky?” Cassandra’s face crinkled. 

“They thought you were sleeping so they splashed you with ‘water.’ Except the water happened to be a mixed drink of vodka and Sprite.”

“Oh, _shit_.” Cassandra glanced at her mother’s trashed top. “I am...trouble...” she mumbled, turning inward.

“Hi there, Trouble. I’m Ezekiel, and I think I can save your night,” he offered. “I had plans before Debbie said I was in charge tonight.” 

“You’re in charge?” she repeated uncertainly. 

“This is my house.”

“Wait, you’re Jazz’s brother?”

“Cousin, actually. I moved here from Australia when my mom died and there was some nonsense about custody. I finally got placed with my dad’s sister’s family. I am ‘the responsible one,’ I guess.” He shrugged. “The life I live.”

“You? Responsible?” Cassandra snorted. “I mean, I guess compared to Jazz…” Speaking of, Jake had been in that closet a looooong time now. Cassandra was a little worried. 

“I know right? Bizarre.” Ezekiel smiled winningly at her. “So anyway, what do you say I make your night spectacular, and you pay me back with information.”

“Information?” she questioned as he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. 

“About you. Cassandra Cillian, smartest girl in the school, curled up in the corner at my cousin’s party.” 

Cassandra observed him carefully. “Deal. But only if you make my problems go away.”

He laughed, sucking in a breath. “All of them? Because whatever the hell just happened might take _magic_ to solve.”

Cassandra felt her heart tingle. “We’ll see what you can do.”

“First thing’s first.” He dragged her by the hand, over to the kitchenette, filled to the brim with open alcohol bottles. “Making you the best drink you’ve ever had.”

“The only drink,” Cassandra corrected.

“Then my job just got a lot harder.” He smiled at her. “Luckily” - he slides some vials out of his pockets - “I’m the special bartender. The ‘secret menu’ of this party.”

“You’re the menu?” Cassandra scrunched up her face again. “How does that make sense?”

“You can have anything off it, or just order the whole damn thing,” Ezekiel teased. 

She laughed. “Smooth, and a nice save. I’ll allow it.” 

“That you kindly.” He grabbed a shot glass out of the cabinet and wet the edge. He poured out some rainbow star-shaped sprinkles from one of his jars onto the counter and coated the rim of the shot glass. 

He turned back to her. “Favorite flavor of skittle?” 

“Green apple!” She was excited and curious where he was going with this. She watched carefully as he ripped open a pack of skittles and split one halfway down the middle, then placed it on the side of the glass. 

From another pocket, he whipped out an array of five vials, filled with colored liquids, and selected the green one, pouring it into the glass. Next, he sprinkled in some cinnamon from another one of his mystery bottles. The was caramel sauce on the counter, which he laid out in a lattice over the top of the drink. 

“Caramel apple shot. And you struck me as a star sprinkles kind of girl.”

“Why just a shot?” 

“You said it’s your first drink ever. Don’t want you wasted before I take you on the best night of your life.” Ezekiel smirked. “You’re going to want to remember this. Ezekiel Jones doesn’t take just any girl out.”

“Well, I don’t go break rules with just any boy,” Cassandra replied, downing her shot while Ezekiel grabbed a soda left unattended and took a sip. “Oooh. Yummy.”

“So. Now that you’ve taken the initiation shot.” Ezekiel grinned. “We are gonna fix the shirt situation, get you cleaned up.”

“How?” Cassandra asked skeptically, glancing at the ruined fabric skeptically.

Ezekiel grabbed her hand. “Trust me.”

She felt the butterflies blossom in her stomach as he dragged her expertly through the throng of wasted high school students. It was still only 9 p.m. and yet everyone was already drunk or high or both. A pretty girl was blowing smoke rings at her boyfriend and trying to make hearts for him.

High school parties really weren’t Cassandra’s cup of tea. 

A pink heart lazily flitted its way across her field of view and she crossed her eyes and blew it away. She felt warm and fuzzy and adventurous. Ezekiel Jones was the delinquent stoner kid who sold things behind the school that he’d stolen: exactly the kind of boy her mother would want her to stay ten miles away from. But all she wanted to do was get closer.

They climbed the basement stairs two at a time and she giggled. He was small, younger than her, but he was nimble and quick. “Jack be nimble, jack be quick,” she started to mumble happily as a candle flickered in her ear, softly hissing.

“You’re a weirdo,” Ezekiel commented. 

“So are you. You steal things and sell em to other people.” Cassandra almost missed a step and pulled sharply on his arm, but he was sturdy and he helped to steady her.

Ezekiel shrugged. “I fancy myself a sort of Robin Hood for the modern ages. Remember when Tom Richards got his fancy new phone stolen that he was complaining wasn’t the right color?”

Cassandra nodded. “That was totally you, wasn’t it?”

“Wiped it, reset it, sold it to a new kid, and donated the proceeds to our local animal shelter back when it was in danger of shutting down.”

Cassandra crowed happily. “Good! Serves him right.” She had a feeling Ezekiel was going to be quite the adventuring partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's not New Year's yet but the story turned into something too long to be a one-shot. So since it's a multichapter, I'll start now and hopefully finish around New Year's. I was really excited with this AU and I can't wait to explore it more! I hope you all love it as much as I do.  
> Let me know what you think by leaving a comment!


	2. Chapter 2

Ezekiel pushed open the door to the basement so the loud music spilled out. An adult woman, early fifties, sat in a plush chair with her back to the door, reading a book. She didn’t bother to look up when the door closed.

“Aunt Deb,” Ezekiel called. “We have a slight situation.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Is anyone dead?” she asked casually. Cassandra felt like they all stood stood in the eye of a hurricane. 

“No, but some drunk idiot spilled vodka and sprite all over Cassandra’s top.”

Deb snorted. “And why, pray tell, is that _my_ problem, Ezekiel? Your little girlfriend is none of my concern and you should be the one taking care of her.”

“Because,” he replied, a calculating look in his eyes. “This is her mother’s shirt. Her parents do not know there is alcohol here at this very underage party. Imagine what the _Cillian family_ will do when they find out what sort of party was hosted with your supervision.” 

Cassandra cringed. Of course her parents had that reputation. They were some strong-charactered people, that was for sure.

Deb sized Ezekiel up. “What proof do you have?” 

“Cassandra took a couple selfies with booze bottles in the background.” He smirked almost imperceptibly. “Now, I know you are aware of this shirt’s cost, because you have the same $200 shirt in the same size and color upstairs in _your_ closet. If you would like to keep this whole ordeal our little secret, I suggest you swap out that never-worn top of yours for Cassandra’s, and worry about replacing your own later.”

She huffed, but there was a bit of a proud gleam in her cold obsidian eyes. “Well played, kid. You obviously know where it is - go ahead and get it. And clean out her hair, for god’s sake, it’s a mess.” 

Cassandra felt a strange combination of insulted, intimidated, and infatuated as Ezekiel hurried her up the stairs. “She has that effect,” he mumbled. “Come on.” 

He led her into his room and Cassandra felt her soul humming with electric excitement. She was breaking so many rules tonight. 

She wondered if he was going to try to have sex with her. Mother swore that’s all boys ever wanted girls in their room for. It didn't sound correct to her, but she didn't have any experience to contradict her mom. If Ezekiel wanted to, she would probably say yes, but she couldn't tell if that's the direction they were heading. 

He rummaged through his closet. “You can keep the shoes. But the skirt and top will not do for tonight,” he explained over his shoulder. “Here.”

He tossed her a pair of black jeans, a graphic t-shirt with a nerdy math joke on the front, and a dark blue plaid shirt. 

“I like blue on you,” he explained plainly, letting his façade slip for just a minute. “Are you wearing a bra?”

“What?” Cassandra blinked in disbelief. 

He gestured at her vaguely, trying but failing not to blush. “The shirt. Do you need a bra?”

Cassandra glanced down. “Oh. No. I’m wearing a strapless one.”

Ezekiel nodded. “Alright. Shower’s in there, hop in and clean yourself off. I’ll grab Debbie’s shirt and get your clothes set up. Yell if you need something.”

“You're not gonna try to join me?” Cassandra was genuinely confused. Her mother had been very wrong about parties and teenage boys. 

Ezekiel flushed dark red once more. “No! Why would I - do you want me to?”

Cassandra shrugged. “I don't much care either way. It's just my mother said when a boy takes a girl to his room, it's always for sex.”

“Your mother has some very backwards, sexist thoughts in her head,” Ezekiel commented dryly. “Unless you pass out in the shower, or have another meltdown, I'm not coming in there.”

“Thank you.” She hoped her tone communicated everything she was thanking him for. 

He shrugged. “Don't mention it. You're helping me, too.”

She wondered how, exactly, as she walked into his adjacent bathroom and turned on a hot shower. There was a powdery blue towel, fluffy as a prince’s bedsheets. Cassandra wondered idly if Ezekiel had stolen it while she watched a plume of steam float lazily to the ceiling. 

She disrobed quickly, leaving her clothes in a crumpled heap on the floor, and stepped under the heavenly rain, shutting the shower door with a a soft click. She felt all the tension melt out of her and every drop hitting her body was a clear harp note. Her personal symphony, courtesy of her screwed up hallucinatory brain. There were some good parts. 

There were several fancy bath products Cassandra was tempted to try, but she just washed and conditioned her tangled hair as best she could, and uses a bar of soap to clean off the sticky spots on her skin. Ezekiel was the kind of boy who used conditioner, which made him even better in her book. 

When she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in the blue towel, even softer than she had expected, her clothes had been taken from the floor. She found them folded neatly on the bed next to her new outfit, panties and bra laid neatly on top. She grinned, thinking of Ezekiel handling them and blushing all the while. Her white top had been replaced and it seemed as though she’d never messed it up in the first place. 

She changed quickly, amazed by how comfy Ezekiel’s clothes were. They fit perfectly and seemed to melt into her, like magic, shaping themselves to her body. 

Curiously, she threw open his closet and found an array of clothes in a massive range of styles and sizes. There were items from every section, girl’s, boy’s, women’s, men’s, things that could only fit a toddler and clothes for people twice Ezekiel’s size. Drinking in the sight of the closet left Cassandra with more questions than she’d started with. 

A knock rapped softly against his door. “Come in,” she called. He pushed open the door and stepped in, looking over Cassandra. 

“Much better,” he said brusquely. “I see you looked in my closet.”

“Why?” she asked simply, unsure how to phrase it otherwise.

He shrugged. “I'll tell you when we're gone. You look much comfier.”

“You have _no_ idea.” Cassandra bounded forward and pulled Ezekiel into a hug. “Thank you so much!”

He tensed up immediately, but after a second, melted into her embrace. He took a deep breath and smiled softly, pulling her a little closer. “You smell like me, and it's surprisingly attractive,” he mumbled, seemingly unaware he’d let it slip out. Cassandra decided to let it be. 

They pulled apart and Cassandra felt like someone had lit a nuclear reaction in her chest. She wanted to know him, every part of him, more than just the thief on the corner, and she hoped that he felt something similar. 

The air was heavy as he plucked a black beanie off a shelf and fit it over her head, brushing back her drying curls. “Do you want makeup?” he offered. “I have some if you need.”

She shook her head. “I'm fine. Whatever’s leftover is good enough for me.”

“That’d be mascara and the suggestion of purple eyeliner.”

“Good enough for me. It was my mom’s doing, anyway.” Cassandra grinned. “I like this better.”

“Me too.” Ezekiel smiled. “If you're happy, I'm happy, Red.”

Cassandra cringed. “Ok, you killed it, that's not cute or original. Call me Cassie.”

“Cassie it is.” He realized how close they were standing and pulled away quickly. “Are you ready to hit the town, Cassie?”

“I've never been more ready in my life.”

They held hands again as they walked down the stairs, partners in crime. Deb still sat in the chair where they’d left her, glancing up as the two crossed the family room floor. 

“She looks much better,” his aunt commented. “Give her a backpack for her party clothes.”

“That's a good idea,” Ezekiel replied, slight surprise evident in his voice. 

“I suppose you're going out?”

“Yes…”

“And if I say you have to stay, you’ll threaten to call the police right now?”

“That was going to be my play, yes.”

Cassandra watched them go back and forth in awe. Ezekiel and his aunt were cut from the same cloth, truly. 

“I never could keep your father in, either,” Deb laughed. “Be safe, don't get caught.”

“I'm taking Jazz’s motorcycle.”

“That's what I meant. Keep Cassandra out of trouble - I'm sure her permanent record isn't as damaged as yours. And try to keep her body intact, too.”

“Thanks, Aunt Deb.” Ezekiel grinned.

She smiled back at him, pushing her short dark hair out of her face. “Happy New Year’s, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days, a.k.a. probably the most productive I'll ever be in my life. Man, I really love Aunt Deb, and she is a strong part of the reason I turned this into a multichap, because this is a fun AU. An interesting backstory for me to explore for Ezekiel, one we haven't seen before I don't think.  
> As always, comments are highly appreciated. Hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

“Can you even drive?” Cassandra asked doubtfully, putting on her winter coat. Ezekiel helped her put on her helmet and she blinked, never having seen the interior of one before. 

He tapped on the glass visor, grinning. “Legally? No. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, Cassie. Trust in Ezekiel Jones.”

She wasn’t sure why or how, but she did trust him. Completely. At least if she died the constant hallucinations would stop. Live fast, die young and all that. 

Ezekiel put on a leather jacket over his navy blue button-down and slid a helmet over his head. Cassandra watched intently, admiring. It was a good look on him, that was for sure. He straddled the motorcycle expertly, like he’d done it thousands of times, and patted the seat behind him. She didn't think twice before hopping on behind him.

“Hold tight,” he advised, opening the garage door. They rolled out so fast and loud Cassandra couldn't hear the door close. 

She pressed herself close to him, legs clenched tight on the bike and arms wrapped around his waist. She screamed in delight, feeling the wind whip through her hair and against her body. Pure elation exploded within her; she’d never felt so free in her life. Free of the chains of her parents, her responsibilities, the expectations she faced. She was on the back of a motorcycle with a boy she barely knew, letting the energy of nature course through her, not crashing into her like usual. Tonight, she would go where it took her, simply flow. 

There was a curiosity in her, that begged to know where they were going. It hungered, as it always did, for knowledge and control. But the bigger part of her was lost in blissful lack of awareness, the newfound sense of mystery. 

Ezekiel broke her from her thoughts. “We’re almost there,” he said, and she could imagine him smirking over how undone she’d come from just a few minutes. He was probably pretty proud of himself for what he’d to her, the world he’d shown her. 

She never wanted to leave it, and their night had only just begun. 

Their first stop was a pizza parlor. Nothing too impressive, a small wooden place with neon lights and a weird nineties aesthetic heavily guiding their decor. It was a little cheesy, but ultimately not a bad place.

“Best pizza you’ll ever taste in this state,” Ezekiel swore to her as they slid into a booth and removed their helmets. “Twenty years from now, you'll be dreaming about this pizza.”

Cassandra laughed. “If you say so.” 

“What kind of pizza do you like?” he asked. “I'm a pepperoni kind of guy myself.”

“Don’t judge,” she warned. “But I like pineapple. And the inaccurately named Hawaiian pizza.”

Ezekiel raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t comment. Making his way to the counter, he pulled out his wallet. When he got up front, Cassandra could no longer hear him, but she hoped he was ordering something good. 

He returned a few minutes later with a warm, fresh pineapple and pepperoni pizza. “Prepare to have your mind blown.”

“Pineapple and pepperoni?” Cassandra giggled. “Interesting.”

“A compromise.”

Cassandra reached out and took a slice, watching the cheese stretch desperately to stay on the rest of the pizza. It was to no avail, though, as she separated it from the rest. Folding the fluffy slice inwards, she took a bite off the end. 

Her eyes widened as she chewed. “Holy cheese balls!” she cried around a mouthful of pizza. “This is an amazing combination.”

“Never doubt Ezekiel Jones,” he laughed, taking a piece of his own. 

Cassandra was damn certain he had had no idea if the pizza would turn out well, but she bit her tongue to keep from ruining the moment.

Here they sat, senior math/science whiz and junior rebel prodigy, across from each other in a booth with cream colored vinyl and dusty purple accents at ten at night on New Year’s Eve. Everything screamed improbability, from the restaurant’s emptiness to Cassandra’s grungy outfit. It wasn’t her style, but it was comfy for the time being. She’d have to dress Ezekiel in retaliation some day.

She was thinking about it like this wasn’t a one-time thing, a chance encounter to be written in locked journals and forgotten about come January fifth, no more than a midwinter night’s dream. They’d pass each other by in the hallways at school, eyes meeting and looking away quickly, aching wonder if the other remembered or even cared. Never would they speak, for speaking was reserved for things that had actually happened.

That wasn’t how she wanted it to go. Cassandra desperately wanted to remember every detail, the most alive she’d felt in months, headaches and health problems and stress of senior year all at bay, stuck outside the glass tank she was in with Ezekiel where time moved slowly and sometimes upside down and she felt like she was floating through honey. 

“Why me?” It came out awkward and rushed after they’d sat in silence for too long with Cassandra lost in thought and Ezekiel letting her be. She flushed, begging for some kind of explanation, anything beyond the random and forgettable.

“I was bored,” he began, and she deflated visibly. He frowned. “I was bored, and you were too, and you were just there - in the corner -” He broke off, taking a bite of pizza and chewing. “I knew you didn’t belong there either and - Are you looking for a love confession?”

“What? No!” Cassandra shook her head sharply. 

“Good, because I barely know you and I won’t - I won’t be what you want anyway.” He looked away and swallowed thickly. “But you didn’t belong there, anymore than I did, and you’re different. You’re different,” he repeated, trailing off quietly.

She was a little concerned by the self-doubt, because she was quite sure she could fall in love with him, given time, and be perfectly content for as long as their little affair lasted. But she chose not to press since he was definitely expecting that. 

“I’m different?” she asked curiously. No one had ever said it with such...admiration in their tone. Usually it was a condemnation, a precursor to ridicule and ostracism. She could count the number of friends she had on one hand, including Jake. 

“You’re different,” Ezekiel repeated it once more. “You were willing to give me a chance. You look at me like - like I could be something better than what I am, not worse. It refreshing.” He coughed. “Don't get your hopes up, though.”

“So I meet the criteria for basic human decency?” Cassandra asked, trying not to let disappointment seep into her voice. 

He stared at her for a moment and she thought she saw war in his eyes, a fight between safety and vulnerability. “I’m curious,” he confessed, letting vulnerability win. “You’re different. Like me.”

“I’m like you.” Cassandra’s voice held crystalline notes of wonder and delight. 

He flushed. “Don’t get too excited. Jury’s still out on whether that’s a good thing.”

Cassandra took a bite of the fluffy crust left of her first slice. “Well, you’re a sweetheart with great taste in pizza. Not a bad place to start.”

He looked away and grabbed his third piece of pizza, shoving it quickly in his mouth to avoid answering. “So,” he began, after chewing down his colossal bite, “what the hell was happening to you when I came over?”

Now it was Cassandra’s turn to get embarrassed. She looked down at her silvery flats, completely out of place in her outfit, and studied the glitter distribution. 

Ezekiel sensed the tension he’d caused. “Listen,” he backpedaled. “It’s fine if you don’t -”

“I hallucinate,” Cassandra cut him off and spoke in a manner that precluded argument. It dared him to say something, anything, to prove to her that he was unsafe so she could run and never think twice about it. Cassandra Cillian was a cornered wolf now, nothing to lose.

“Anything cool?” Ezekiel asked nonchalantly. “Like are we talking ‘animals that don’t exist’ or ‘I see dead people’ or what?”

“Colors. Sounds. Feelings. Have you heard of synesthesia?” She was less wary now that he’d passed the first test, but her guard was still up.

“I’ve read every article on wikipedia,” Ezekiel answered. “Well, not read...I’m too lazy to read. I have a screenreader.”

“Bullshit. Drop the façade, Jones, I know you’re dyslexic,” she shot back. “Jazz has mentioned it.”

He groaned. “My good for nothing cousin. Yeah, I’m stupid and I can’t read.”

“Am I crazy?” She stared him down again, her gaze a knife blade. 

“Of course not.”

“If I’m not crazy, you’re not stupid. Just neurodivergent.” She took a bite of pizza with finality. Ezekiel Jones was not allowed to call himself stupid in her presence. 

“So. Your synesthesia.” He changed the subject, though he sounded awkwardly flattered. 

“I’m self-diagnosed,” she explained. “But I mean. What else can it be? I hear loud music, I see flashing red lights. I feel love, I smell my father’s cologne. There’s only so much like that.” 

He nodded, sipping a cola thoughtfully. “Why aren’t you officially diagnosed?”

“My parents are...obsessed with appearances.” She cringed, thinking of how her mother screamed at her when she’d collapsed in public. “My mother has agreed that if my health problems persist for another three months, then we will see a doctor.”

“Health problems?”

“I have...headaches, nosebleeds, dizzy spells. A whole slew of issues. Something is wrong but my parents think it’ll go away on its own. And they think I’m making half of it up for attention, so they refuse to pay for me to see a doctor.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Ezekiel’s hands tightened. “God knows your parents can afford it.”

“Now we can,” she replied wistfully. “It wasn’t always like this. We used to be pretty poor. But an overabundance of money changed my parents.”

“Huh.” Ezekiel took a long sip of his soda. “So none of this explains why you were checked out in a corner of my cousin’s basement.”

“Sensory overload, panic attacks, and hallucinations.” She laughed awkwardly. “I felt like I was drowning and so I was. I guess I should thank you for saving me. How did you know what to do?”

“My best friend in elementary school was autistic. She liked dinosaurs and was easily overwhelmed by loud noises. She liked it when I blocked them out for her.” Ezekiel shrugged like it was no big deal. 

“Tell me about her,” Cassandra requested. “Please.”

“Her name was Audrey and she liked to stim by roaring.” He grinned nostalgically. “Her family was aboriginal and mine was Korean, so we got along just fine. She wanted to be a paleontologist when she grew up.”

Cassandra liked how his face softened. “Tell me about her? What did she look like, how did you know each other?”

“Her family moved in with us when they lost their house for a while. The six of us in a cramped little place, and then five when my dad died. It was like having an extra set of parents, ya know?” He smiled softly. “She was beautiful. She had dark skin and even darker eyes, like onyx. She liked to keep her hair short, like a boy’s, because she said it made her comfier. That girls should be comfy too.” He laughed. “She had a wonderful nose, broad and flat and strong. She was very self-conscious because she didn’t look like the white girls at our school, so she thought she wasn’t pretty, but I thought she was divine.”

“Did you have a crush on her?” Cassandra giggled.

Ezekiel closed off abruptly. “No. What the hell? Why is that always the way? What about Jake, were you ever madly in love with him?”

“Ew, no!” she cringed, physically recoiling. “Jake is like...my brother.”

“Exactly.” Ezekiel stood up. “I have to go to the bathroom. Don’t run away, or do. Whatever.”

Cassandra watched him walk away with dread in her stomach. What if he walked out the back and left her there? She wasn’t sure which she dreaded more, calling Jake for a ride or losing whatever chance for...something...that she had with Ezekiel.

She took a long sip of her soda and settled in to wait and see if her mouth had screwed her over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three of a story that seems to be shaping up to be a lot longer than expected. Here we have some backstory, some flirting, and some drama. All in a New Year's Eve, right?  
> As always, I love to hear your feedback. Happy New Year!


	4. Chapter 4

Ezekiel wet his face with water. Maybe he’d been wrong to react so volatilely, but god, it always went like that. As soon as anyone heard about her, they defiled her memory with strange, terrible ideas like someone so unworthy seeking to have her for himself. He hadn’t deserved her, would never deserve her, and the thought of wanting her that way turned his stomach. To this day, she was more interested in dinosaurs than romance, and he could never disrespect her like that. It had never even occurred to him at that age.

He’d thought Cassandra would be different, wouldn’t trigger him like that. His stomach was churning and he felt sweaty, shaky, on the verge of his own panic attack. His breathing was uneven and he clutched at the sink desperately.

When he shut his eyes, all he saw was a small bedroom with one shared bed that he’d been forcibly removed from when he was ten. No longer was he allowed to share a room with a girl - he might _do_ something. Boys and girls must be separated at all times. They screamed and cried that night and clutched each other tight, but they’d been pried apart by Ezekiel’s beleaguered mother, obviously strong-armed into this, and Audrey’s venomous father. He felt the blow even now, felt the whip-like heat of distrust and doubt on his back. Here were the people who were supposed to be different, to love him, to know he wasn’t riffraff and that he would be good and respectful and responsible. They ripped it from him.

So he’d become exactly what people thought he’d be. Audrey had moved out not long after, her family finally back on their feet. They’d talked less, grown apart. She hadn’t like who he was becoming. Not the stealing; she understood his “take what you want from life” attitude better than most. But the persona he was crafting, the cool arrogance and untouchable nature. 

And then tonight, tonight he’d let it slip because - what, because Cassandra was beautiful? A beacon of hope? How silly was he to believe he could deserve her, either, and yet maybe she wasn’t so great because she was just like all the others, asked the same questions and caused the same pain and then ran away instead of cleaning up the mess they’d made.

There was a quiet knocking on the door, but it only sent Ezekiel further down the spiral. He didn’t know how to stop it, stop the memories and the pain in him clawing its way to the surface, through layers of carefully designed detachment. 

He felt arms, all of a sudden, wrapping around him and holding him tightly. “Shhhh, shhhh,” they whispered, like wisps of late summer wind. Suddenly grounded, he focused on the softness of the fabric, burying his face into the arms.

“Count your breaths. In for four, out for four. And picture something simple, a singular red ball or a pine tree. Anchor points.” Ezekiel took the advice, clutching desperately at the sleeves. He imagined a rosebush from outside the front of his house, deep green and vivid red. He listened to the soothing voice count off in fours and let his breathing follow the direction while he focused on recreating the rosebush. 

After what felt like forever, he pulled his head up and found Cassandra holding him tight, still counting quietly. She had lovely strong arms. He’d have to ask about that, when he mustered the energy to care, but for now, he was just numb, shaky, and confused. Nobody ever stayed, and certainly not to take care of him. 

“Why?” he managed to choke out. 

Cassandra looked at him, studying his face closely. “Because you did the same for me. Also because this is my fault, I think.”

He nodded and she sighed. God, she was even pretty when she was sad and guilty. He buried his face back in her arms, and she squeezed him again. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “About my comments and everything. It was intrusive and rude and I didn’t mean to imply anything I shouldn’t have.”

He nodded. “But I guess now we’re even. A panic attack each. No more though, for the night.”

It was as much of an acceptance as Cassandra’s apology would get. He gave her a little half-smile and she pulled away, standing up to dust herself off. She offered a hand to Ezekiel. “Come on. Our pizza is probably getting cold.”

They walked back to the table, holding hands. Ezekiel liked her hand - it was small and soft and covered in upraised parts. He fancied her might be able to read something in her scars, if he tried, something surely random yet meaningful in its sheer chance of being. He wondered if he was allowed to ask about them now, why she had so many scars on her hands, now that they’d been vulnerable together. He supposed there was no reason for pretense anymore - she had seen him at one of his worse moments and run towards him, not away.

No one had ever done that. 

“I sliced up my hands a lot. When I was little,” she volunteered, as though she had read his mind. “On the playground, mostly, though also sometimes cleaning knives and stuff. Cuts added up.” Her hand tightened and he could hear the nervousness in her voice. “People don't usually like the feeling.”

“It's interesting,” Ezekiel reassured her. He squeezed her hand back and made no move to let go as they returned to the table. 

“If you could have a meal anywhere in the world, where would it be?” Cassandra asked suddenly. 

Ezekiel thought for a moment. He wasn’t much one for these ice breaker games, but she seemed to genuinely want to get to know him he’d play along, for a while, until she cut too close to his core. If he showed her too much, she’d run, like they all did, eventually. He wanted to keep her around as long as he could.

“The small town in South Korea where my grandmother lives.” It was more than he’d meant to say. She put him at ease, made him want to tell her everything. But he couldn't do that. “She and my aunt are estranged so I haven’t seen her in forever.”

Cassandra squeezed his hand, lightly tracing circles along his knuckles. “I hope you see her again someday.”

He nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. “How about you?” He changed the subject, hoping to get her talking. 

“That same town. I’d love to have a meal with you and your grandmother.” She looked down, flushing slightly. “If you’d have me. I love Korean food, and nothing beats authentic, grandma cooked. And I’d like to meet your family, if that’s not too weird. It’s probably weird. I dunno.” 

“If you’ve had it at a restaurant, I guarantee you have no idea what you’re talking about.” Ezekiel laughed. She was adorable, he had to admit, babbling away. “American restaurants don’t even come close.”

“Actually, it was my nanny.” Cassandra took a sip of her soda and wet her lips. “My parents weren’t...around much when I was younger. I was raised by a lot of nannies.”

Ezekiel nodded, though he had no idea what that was like. He couldn’t imagine a childhood without his parents’ love and support; that had been the only thing that got him through the tough times they all faced.

“You can come with me,” Ezekiel said impulsively. “To visit my grandma. I’m saving up. Pay your own way, and you can come too.” He didn’t know why he did that, making future plans as though she’d stick around long enough to carry them out. Hopefully she understood that this was a promise empty as an abandoned theatre. 

She flushed, looking down at her plate. “I’d like that,” she said, whisper as warm and full as violins. He felt a heat on his cheeks, spreading its wings all the way from his chest.

“So. My cousin.” Ezekiel ignored the feeling of his heart being shredded. He would not fall in love with her, not after one night, would not fall in love with ‘Dead Girl Walking,’ as the whole school called her. Everyone knew about her tumor. Everyone knew she had a countdown. Let her leave him the way they all did, not the one way he couldn’t handle. Because he was starting to see that she might actually like him, stick around, and even if loving her was always torture, he would never ever reject her friendship, until one day it was gone. And then he too would die.

“Your cousin?” she repeated back to him, peering into his eyes. He’d been silent too long.

“Oh, yeah. My cousin. Um, sorry about them sleeping with your boyfriend.” He wasn’t sure why he said it. Everyone thought Jake and Cassie were together, which was ridiculous. They had literally just established Jake was like her brother, before he had his little episode, and yet. He hoped Cassie didn’t notice him clumsily prying. He was usually so much smoother than this. 

Jake Stone was a disgraced football star who’d exposed a hazing scandal and as thanks, been kicked off the team. Still, girls were dying to get with him. Ezekiel couldn’t imagine a dumb jock knowing enough to choose Cassandra over the plastic, sex-crazed airheads that’d drop you in a day. The girls were just fine, really, but they didn’t want the same things Ezekiel wanted. Jake though. The Cowboy would probably want those things.

“He’s not my _boyfriend_.” Cassandra shuddered. “He’s like my _brother_. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. I don’t even like him. He doesn’t even like girls.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oops. I'm not. Supposed to talk about that. Don't tell him I told you please. And by god, if you give him a hard time about it…” She was full of fire and flint as she stared him down. He hadn't expected her to be able to pull off threatening, but she had. 

He held up his hands placatingly. “Hey, I'm bi myself.” Careful revealing of information often fixed these kinds of situations, defused and established trust. 

“Me too!” Her eyes lit up in excitement, fire replaced by electricity. “Oh, good.” She visibly relaxed and Ezekiel exhaled as inconspicuously as possible. “But yeah. I don't care, Jake can have sex with whoever he likes, as long as it’s not me.”

A small weight lifted from Ezekiel’s heart. “So no significant other?” he maintained the most casual tone he could. 

“Single Pringle. Ready to flingle.” She giggled and then stopped abruptly. “Sorry. That was silly.”

He smiled at her fondly, relief filling him with cool water. God, what a dork. “Just be yourself, Cassie.” He stood up abruptly. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“Ok, now I don’t feel like so much of a loser.” She bounded out of her seat, raring to go. “Where to next?” 

“It’s a surprise,” he answered, grabbing his helmet. “But we’ve got to stop off for some supplies first.”

He was going to teach her a few things tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. The day before Valentine's. That sounds like a great day to update my New Year's Eve fic.   
> I'm really loving this, and I hope you're loving it too. It's such a fun AU to develop, and I thought I'd let you all inside Ezekiel's head this time.


	5. Chapter 5

“I cannot believe we’re doing this!” Cassandra’s hands fluttered nervously at her sides. 

“You are going to get us caught,” Ezekiel hissed. “Breathe, Cassie, just breathe. Right now, we’re just browsing.”

She closed her eyes, tracing the fibonacci sequence out two hundred iterations. It was fine. It was fine. Ezekiel Jones would not let them get caught. “Remind me why we’re here for this?”

“Would you rather go skinny dipping?” he asked. She was pretty sure the answer she should not give, lest she scare him off, was yes. So she shook her head. “That’s what I thought. So we need swimsuits.”

“We could just go home,” she whined. 

“Cassandra, I’m teaching you life skills. Broaden your horizons.”

“My parents will kill me. Literally, actually kill me.” She gazed deep into his eyes and begged him to understand. She could feel dark bruises long healed, phantoms hovering under her skin. 

He must have understood, because tentatively, he reached his arms out. She took it as an invitation and fell into his chest, squeezing him tight and squeezing her eyes shut tighter. He pet her back and she breathed in. He smelled of grease and plastic, and stale cigarette smoke, probably from living with Jazz. It was soothing, somehow. 

_“I'm sorry,”_ his delicate fingers seemed to say. They traced intricate patterns over her shoulder blades. She focused only on him, and slowly, the yellow static filling her vision subsided to a gentle buzz on the outer corners. 

“If you don't want me to, I won't.” His voice was muffled by her hair, but she could still understand him. “If you want to go home, I'll take you home.”

“Why here?” she asked. He pulled back, leaving his hands on her arms. “Why this store?”

“The owner’s racist. And also a dick to Jazz about their gender.” He shrugged, absently rubbing circles against her upper arms. “And you need a swimsuit and I was gonna teach you but that's not happening, ok? And I'm not upset, or disappointed, or whatever.”

“How are you so good at this?” Her voice was a trembling whisper and her eyes were searching, desperate, for what she was unsure.

He shrugged again. “I know plenty of people with abusive parents. The broken ones, we tend to flock together.”

She stuttered out several half-hearted denials, but there was a pain in her heart, aching to kiss him, tell him he was right, thank him for seeing the truth through the illusions they put forth. 

As if he could read her mind, he leaned forward tentatively - so shy, like he was afraid to break her - and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. “Pick something you like and then go check out another department.”

She pulled back completely, holding his hand loosely after it fell down her arm. Surveying the rack in front of her, she pointed to a two-piece affair with rainbow watercolors splashed across it. The high waist would cover the scars on her hips, and the simple triangle top was accented with a little white bow. In short, it was a perfectly Cassandra look, functional and whimsical. 

The corners of Ezekiel’s lips jumped upwards. “Perfect.” He eyed it on the rack. “Go look at something fun. I’ll meet you outside in ten minutes.”

It really was a beautiful swimsuit, she reflected as she wandered over towards the makeup aisle. She browsed a special collection of Star Wars-inspired nail polish while her mind danced erratically. Ezekiel wouldn’t get caught, she just knew it, and she trusted him completely. If he said the store owner deserved it, then the man did. 

How would she explain the appearance of a new swimsuit to her parents? Her mom would never approve of the amount of cleavage this suit was bound to show. They’d probably throw it out if they found it. Probably punish her for daring to own something she enjoyed. She shuddered at the thought. The skin at her hips tingled. 

Still, this rebellion was a sweet lemonade during the arid summer of her parents overbearing regime. All through the night, she’d made decisions that her parents would never approve of. Perhaps she just wouldn’t go home, ever. She imagined running away with Ezekiel. He could save her, she was sure. 

But _would_ he? He was so skittish, shy. Like he didn’t expect this to last. Maybe he didn’t even want it to last.

He couldn’t save her. No one could save her but herself. Next year, she’d be at college, far away from home and she’d never look back. Not for anything.

She ignored the painful constrictions of her heart. Ezekiel wouldn’t care enough to want her to come back. No one ever did. So she would never look back, keep Jake in her phone and Ezekiel in her heart and she’d fly away.

She glanced around furtively and slipped a bottle of black nail polish in her pocket. For another little bit, she continued to browse before cheerily waving goodbye to the scowling shop owner and walking out.

Ezekiel found her minutes later, leaning on the motorcycle, pulling the bathing suit out from under his jacket. “It’s beautiful,” he commented as she held it up to her her body excitedly. It wouldn’t cover her tattoo, but that only excited her more. No hiding things tonight.

For tonight, she would be Cassandra Cillian, weird and nerdy and broken and _free_. And she knew Ezekiel wouldn’t fault her for it.

He pulled out a plain red suit for himself. Cassandra pulled the nail polish out of her pocket in response, showing it off bashfully. His grin warmed her insides. “‘Atta girl.”

They leaned against the motorcycle, a breeze making its way across their skin. The weather was unseasonably warm for New Year’s Eve in Portland, only the barest suggestion of a chill, and Cassandra appreciated the universe’s gift to her.

She pulled his flannel closer around her. “Why do you have all those clothes in other sizes?” She ran her fingers across the edges.

“We didn’t have a whole lot when I was younger.” His voice was low, and she knew he was telling her secrets he’d never told anyone else. “Anything I wanted that weren’t the barest necessities, I had to steal. And I stole a lot, just because I could. To fill a hole, I guess.”

She nodded along, as though she understood, but she didn’t. Not really. She could never understand. But she felt like she knew what he meant, even if she’d never feel it herself.

“The kids used to pick on me because I was an easy target. My clothes never matched, were always worn and second-hand. And even the stuff I stole couldn’t look too good, or else people would get suspicious.”

Ezekiel sighed heavily, a far-away look in his eyes. “And then I got here. It’s a whole different world, Cassie. My aunt makes more in a year than my family ever had. And my uncle works, too.” He shook his head. “They let me buy whatever the hell I want. So I buy the nicest clothes I can, and then I buy clothes for everyone else. Anyone who needs them. I always have something.” 

“What do you do with them?” she questioned, imagining Ezekiel welcoming strangers into his room to try on garments.

“I drive to the city at least once a month and just hand out a ton of clothes. Everything, anything someone might need. You probably didn’t dig through my drawers, but I have absurd amounts of other supplies too.” He shrugged. “It turns my compulsions into something good, you know?”

“That’s very noble, Ezekiel.” She smiled softly. Nobody knew this side of Ezekiel Jones but her. And she liked what she had found.

He scratched the nape of his neck. “I never really had a lot of things people take for granted. I like to make sure no one else has to suffer like I did, if I can help it.”

Perhaps she could give him a small luxury now, evidence of love and goodwill. “Can I paint your nails?” she asked suddenly, feeling childish only as the words left her mouth and fell heavily between them. “I mean. If you’re ok with it. If you want. It really doesn’t matter.”

He held his hands out in response. “Paint yours too so we match.”

Illuminated only by the parking lot lamp, she held his hand delicately in her own and opened up the bottle, placing the brush on each nail clumsily but as carefully as she could. She was a newly made artist and his hands were the most important piece she’d worked on in her life.

After a few minutes, she pulled back to regard her handiwork. They were a little clumsy, with spots of polish off the nails despite her best efforts. Still, Ezekiel’s smile looking down at them made her feel better - he looked so genuinely thrilled.

“Now you do me.” She offered him the bottle and he took it like a jewel, holding her small hand in his and tracing across a scar. His work was amazing, dragging the brush down each nail with utmost precision, covering up the jewel tones her mother had laid down just hours before. She admired his skill, far superior to her own, and he left her with perfect nails, not a drop out of place.

She took his hand and laced her fingers through, pulling it up to chest level. “Matchy match!” She grinned. “Look at us.”

There was a light dusting of pink across his cheeks as he laughed. “Yeah, we do.”

She leaned forward and shyly pressed a kiss to his cheek, a small gift for sticking with her. “Thank you,” she said. She had a lot to be thankful for tonight, and thankful to Ezekiel. She hoped he was enjoying himself as much as she was. Maybe she could get a second date.

_Date._ She chastised herself. This wasn’t a date, he’d shown no romantic interest in her at all, and she was being silly and presumptuous. She’d be lucky to get a _first_ date.

He kept holding her hand, and they stood in the parking light’s glow, just enjoying each other’s presence. They were twin fires, kindred spirits with the same light, discovering it for the first time. 

Cassandra never wanted the night to end. She wanted it to go on forever, let them do a million things she never dreamed of doing, eating pineapple pepperoni pizza and riding motorcycles and stealing bathing suits and painting a boy’s nails under the glow of a light in a half empty parking lot. She wanted to fly. 

She pulled him into her arms suddenly, squeezing and pouring everything in. Her feelings were inexpressible in words, full of colors and sounds and tastes, but maybe he could understand from her embrace. He held her just as tight and she wondered if this is what love felt like.

After what seemed like a thousand years, they pulled apart. Something had changed, an electric charge in the air that wasn’t there before. “You ready to go?” Ezekiel asked, swallowing thickly. 

Cassandra nodded, still unsure exactly where they were going. 

“We’re going to go really fast to make it in time,” he warned her. “So hang on tight.”

A thrill tingled down her spine. She wasn’t sure how fast was fast, but she had a feeling she would be flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassie gets to go outside her comfort zone a little bit! I love their dynamic. This was pretty fun to write, and I hope you had just as much fun reading it. Drop me a comment if you like!


	6. Chapter 6

Her delighted screams were his absolute favorite sound, Ezekiel decided. They won out over jangling coins and the sound of electro swing. By an overwhelming vote. 

The two of the were racing down the highway, far above than the legal limit, but every shriek egged him on faster and faster until he could never dream of slowing down. He wanted to stay like this forever, wind whipping against the two of them, her arms snugly around his waist and her body pressed tight on his back. All he could hear were the howls of the wind and of Cassandra, mingling and harmonizing. 

This was bliss. He just wanted to drive, keep accelerating until suddenly they weren’t on the ground anymore and they were flying. Free. 

They’d get to the hot springs soon enough, he reckoned. The moon hung fat and heavy in the sky, a beautiful lady smiling contentedly on the two of them. Perhaps she fancied them lovers. Who else would be alone together at eleven on New Year’s Eve?

He stopped the line of thought. That’s not was happening here; he was just an opportunity for her, nothing more. She’d have left with anyone who offered her the same opportunity. 

The gentleness of her hands on his waist told him maybe that wasn’t quite true. But no one had ever really wanted to know him like this before, follow him an hour (at legal limits) out of town at eleven at night. Why would Cassandra be any different, really, beautiful rich white girl that she was? They came from different worlds. He barely wanted to get out of bed in the mornings, and she had the whole world going for her. School was a nightmare for him, yet it was where she seemed to excel most. She said she used to be poor, but he’d bet not like him. Nobody around this area had been poor like he had. 

He could imagine her saying “I love you” in his brain and it stumbled over itself. It took all his effort to stay steady on the road. He had no idea where that had come from, nor was he sure he wanted to know. Eyes on the road, focus on the drive.

Too soon, they left the highway, and eventually made their way to a small secluded lot. “You ready?” he asked, taking her hand as she hopped off the bike.

She fixed her bag over her shoulder and nodded excitedly. “But you still haven’t told me what we’re doing, Ezekiel.”

“You still haven’t figured it out yet,” he replied, keeping hold of her hand. He led her through a narrow trail amongst the trees, enjoying her confusion and wonder. She was craning her head all around, admiring the foliage, and he had the urge to kiss her, right there in the middle of the woods. Free of pretense, just her perfect pink lips on his. 

He doubted he could ever be that brave. She was way out of his league anyway. 

Her hand held tight onto his as he led her deeper and deeper into the woods, until they came upon a clearing. He watched her expectantly as her face morphed from confusion to surprise to delight, all in the span of seconds. 

“A hot spring?” she practically shrieked, bouncing on her toes and pulling a bit ahead of him. “Omg I've always wanted to go to one!”

_She said ‘omg.’_ He grinned in spite of himself. What a dork. 

His affection turned to shock as she started to strip where she stood, and he let out a startled yelp. Her shirt was tangled up on her arms stretched overhead, and she looked over her shoulder, concern evident. 

“Are you alright?” she asked. He couldn’t drag his gaze away from her perfect porcelain skin or the light purple lace of her bra, and his face was stained with red. “Is this not ok? Should I go somewhere else? Modesty has never really been on my list of virtues,” she apologized. 

He marveled at how unembarrassed she seemed. The shirt had fallen from her arms to the ground and she shivered lightly. He wanted to put his arms around her, feel her skin against him and never let go, but he had turned to wood and his feet grown roots into the ground below him. 

“Am I pretty?” she asked tentatively. Ezekiel swallowed the lump in his throats and nodded emphatically as she unhooked her bra. It too slid to the ground, joining the shirts in a small pile of clothes. 

He averted his eyes while she bent over to pick up her stolen swimsuit. He could feel his pulse in every inch of his body, every cell singing with admiration of her. When he looked back, she was facing him in all her glory. The suit wasn’t nearly as high-waisted as he knew she’d expected, but in that moment, he couldn’t care. Delicate scars traced a lattice along her hips and amidst it all, a small, dark tattoo. 

He was in love with her. 

The realization sent everything in him into overdrive, and he almost bolted right there. Feelings were not something he was good at, not something he stuck around for. It had just been one night, how had it come on so fast?

She was walking towards him and his breathing quickened. He eyed her warily as she reached him and then again felt shock as she tugged on the hem of his shirt. 

“Come on, silly. Get changed!” Her face was inches from his. It would be so easy to kiss her, everything glowing in the moonlight. But he didn’t. Instead, he let her take off his shirt, and then let her gently run her fingers over his skin. 

“You're so muscular,” she whispered admiringly. He really wasn’t anything special - he was just skinny and he did a lot of fighting. Always a scrappy kid, you've gotta get strong if you don't want to get your butt kicked. Still, he liked how she said it.

Her fingers dipped lower and his breath hitched while she settled at his waistband. “Do you wanna do this part?”

It occurred to him she’d been the only one speaking for about five minutes. “Yes,” he croaked out, cursing how rusty his voice sounded. He turned his back towards her, trying to ignore the awareness of her staring. 

Finally, after what felt like an inferno of an eternity, Ezekiel turned back towards Cassandra, wearing his stolen goods. She tried to make like she hadn’t been staring at his ass, but it was a futile effort. His cheeks were again dusted with rose but he smiled, pleased. 

“You look amazing,” she breathed. It was her turn to blush. 

“Shall we get wet?” he asked, immediately regretting his choice of words. She giggled and looked about ready to make a filthy joke. He wasn’t sure he could survive it if she did, so he grabbed her hand and dragged her full speed towards the pool. 

He checked the time on his phone. 11:57. He hadn’t missed midnight. If he would actually kiss her was anyone’s guess, but he wanted to. He would. He wouldn't. He would. 

He was a mess. 

He put his phone down and pushed it from the water’s edge, only to be greeted by a splash and Cassandra’s face too close to his. “Hi.” Her eyes were the size of the moon above as she stared up at him, grinning. 

“Hi.” He felt more relaxed now, in his element. The water was good, safe. He was so warm and blissed out. 

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” Her hand was on his thigh now, to steady herself. Ezekiel was very much enjoying the closeness and intimacy. 

“Me too.”

“We should do this again sometime.”

“We should.”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“I would save you any day, Cassandra Cillian.” The last part slipped out and he wasn’t entirely sure where it had come from, but it was a place full of deep honesty and emotional stability. 

“It's a minute to midnight.”

He checked his phone. “Indeed it is.”

“Are you gonna kiss me?” 

Ezekiel Jones was absolutely _terrible_ with girls, but even he heard in her voice how much she wanted it. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he replied, reaching up to caress her face. 

Somewhere in the distance, there were fireworks, and suddenly her lips were on his, and he wasn’t even sure who had initiated it, only that he could let this last forever. His other hand made its way to join the first, tangled in the endless sea of her beautiful red hair, soft and swirled around his fingers. Her body was completely sprawled into his lap, floating gently, and her fingers against his back sent shivers down his spine.

She pulled back for air but he didn’t let her go for long. He craved more, wanted her closer, to feel and experience all of her. Never had he hungered for human contact like this before, and yet now he felt like he would be empty without her. 

Cassandra, for her part, reacted enthusiastically, kissing back with equal vigor and letting out small squeaks and moans. At some point, they had shifted so she was in his lap, facing him, and pressed so close Ezekiel wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. It was perfect. 

He shifted over towards her jaw, delighting in her mewls, and he kissed the tender flesh. He was going to leave a little something on her neck, he thought as he moved downwards. That way, even if they never spoke again after this night, there was some confirmation that it had happened. Right at the base, near her collarbone, he set to work kissing and nibbling, bestowing a small gift on Cassandra’s eager skin. 

By the time he was done, it was dark as the trees around them, and twice as big as Ezekiel had intended. “Oops.” He looked at it, apologetic, blushing slightly, but she smiled wickedly. 

“I love it,” she assured him, before diving down to give him a matching mark.

His head tilted back and he exhaled slowly. She was rough and enthusiastic, and his hand drifted down to cup her waist as he hummed. There was fire beneath his skin and with every kiss, she drew it closer to the surface. 

When she finished, she grabbed his phone and huddled in close for a selfie. “We’re the same,” she decided, and Ezekiel felt like she meant more than just the hickeys. 

In response, he pulled her in for another kiss, just as amazing as the first. It would never lose its excitement, he thought hazily, even if he did nothing else for the rest of his life. The thought seemed fairly appealing at this point, so he continued, again and again, barely breathing if he could help it, and sprinkling some kisses down her neck for good measure.

They were interrupted by a phone call from Aunt Deb. Both blinked, surprised to see it was already one a.m. Ezekiel let it go to voicemail, distracted by a whine from Cassandra and three more kisses, but he pushed her away. “Cassie, give me a sec.”

She pouted, keeping close to him, but let him play the voicemail. Deb’s voice was almost as though she was there. Ezekiel imagined her walking right up to the pool and jokingly scolding him.

_“Wow, kid. Didn’t know you had it in you. Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Hope you’re being safe and all that._

_“Anyway, not to rush you or anything, but I figured I should inform you it’s one a.m., as you seem to have forgotten your curfew. Whatever. Your uncle and I are going to bed - use your key. And get Cassandra home okay, will you? We don’t need that family giving us trouble. Drive safe.”_

What a woman, his Aunt Deb.

“We should start heading home.” It pained him to suggest, but Aunt Deb had a point.

She whined. “But Ezekiel, I don’t wanna.”

“I know, sweetheart.” She nipped at his ear and he pulled back, somehow knowing if she had her way, they’d never leave this pool.

“I don’t want it to end.” Desperation caught fire behind her eyes and he was mesmerized, losing himself again, and he took the opportunity for another kiss.

After they pulled apart again, he took her hands gently in his. “It doesn’t have to, you know.” He swallowed, looking down shyly, but there were her breasts and his cheeks were beets, and up at the stars was the safe way to go. “Stay with me. Wake up in my arms.”

“Promise?” she asked softly, youthful and innocent. 

“I promise,” he replied as a star rushed past overhead and he wished, with all his might, that he could keep this promise and continue to keep it for as long as possible. 

She stepped out of the water and stripped off her wet swimsuit. Again, he was enthralled by the smooth skin that seemed to glow in moonlight, his to touch if he wanted to. God, he wanted to. He reached out to caress her calf. 

Towels. He had forgotten towels. She stood there, quivering like a sapling in the breeze and he cursed himself. 

She seemed to realize too. “Well. One way to fix this, I guess.” And so she sprinted, naked as a cherub, across the clearing, shrieking giddily all the while. If he hadn’t already figured it out, that would be how Ezekiel knew he loved her.  
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked between peals of laughter.

“Air drying!” 

The edges of her vibrant orange hair were dark with wet, and he could pick out a smattering of freckles across her nose. He wanted to sweep her up and never let go. 

“I’ll leave you to that.” He climbed out of the spring and shook himself off, quickly changing into his clothes, trying to ignore the way they clung to his skin uncomfortably. It didn’t matter, really, because he was exuberant, and here in this glade with Cassandra, he was in heaven.

She came over to join him, picking her borrowed outfit off the ground piece by piece. He noted again that her panties were lavender and he thought it just might be his new favorite color.

“Is this the end?” she asked quietly. “After tomorrow morning, do we pretend none of this happened?”

“No.” He kissed her forehead. “Never. Not if you don’t want it to be.”

“I don’t,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Not ever.”

It was only the first night, he knew. They would wake up tomorrow and face a new world in the new year. Yesterday they’d barely known each other, and now they knew more than anyone else. Yet there was still so much to learn. 

For the first time in his teenage years, Ezekiel couldn’t wait to wake up in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are. The end. My longest completed multichap ever, drawing to its glorious conclusion. I had so much fun writing this - I might come back to the AU someday. Let me know if you all would be interested in that! As always, I'd love any feedback. Hope you enjoyed this ride with me, and thank you for sticking with it.


End file.
